


The Rustic, Homey, Domestic Cooking Channel

by deliriumbubbles



Category: Smallville
Genre: M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-03
Updated: 2017-07-03
Packaged: 2018-11-22 18:18:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11385738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deliriumbubbles/pseuds/deliriumbubbles
Summary: Set in Season Three. One Saturday after Lex returns from Belle Reve, he comes over to make breakfast for Clark.





	The Rustic, Homey, Domestic Cooking Channel

   
“Rise and shine, farmboy!”  
  
Clark rubbed his eyes and glared though the screen door at Lex, who was grinning at him with a gleam of happiness Clark had never seen on him before. It was like someone else was wearing Lex’s body, but Clark knew that wasn’t true. This time, anyway. If only he could blame Kryptonite.  
  
“Um… funny to see you up this early, Lex.”  
  
The older man grinned cockily, as he stretched his knotted fingers away from himself. He shrugged noncommittally. “Actually, I haven’t been to bed yet.”   
  
It wasn’t a Lex-like gesture.  
  
“It’s funny to see _you_ sleeping in, though,” Lex continued.  
  
“Mom and Dad went to Metropolis last night. They were… doing some business thing and decided to stay. They’ll be back this afternoon. So after my chores got done, I fell asleep on the couch watching cartoons.”  
  
“Oh? Do you want me to leave you, Clark?” Lex continued lightly. Clark woke up quickly.  
  
“No! Don’t leave.”  
  
“Well… I imagined you’d invite me inside if you wanted company.”  
  
“I do, sorry. Still asleep.”  
  
“Understandable.” Lex laughed and grabbed Clark’s shoulder, fingers kneading the red flannel pajamas. “Have you had breakfast yet?”  
  
“I had a bowl of Fruity Pebbles.” Clark suspected he was about to be whisked off to the castle for breakfast. Honestly, he wouldn’t mind, but being around Lex right now hurt a little.  
  
“Well, then why don’t I make you breakfast?” Lex suggested, spinning around energetically to face his best friend.  
  
“Um, by make, you mean order?”  
  
“By make, I mean cook. You do have food in the house, don’t you?” Lex headed to the kitchen. Clark frowned and followed him. This could not turn out well.  
  
Lex was bent over the refrigerator and began pulling out milk, eggs, butter…  
  
“You can cook,” Clark reiterated in disbelief. He leaned against the counter curiously. Lex nodded. He had shucked off his jacket and tossed it over a chair. Clark frowned at the blue long sleeved sweater. Wrong color. Too light. It should be a dark amethyst or a black.  
  
“You see, Clark, when you go to a hoity toity boarding school, discipline is always a touchy matter. If you go with Catholic, they have the ruler.” Lex smirked and tossed a couple of apples in the air, caught them, and continued. “Some schools let the kids run wild, and some dole out extra chores. I’d much prefer kitchen patrol than scrubbing toilets, so I could usually swap off with someone and just spend my detentions in the kitchen.”  
  
He laughed again as he rolled up his sleeves and began to peel the apples. “I got in trouble… uh… a lot.”  
  
Clark began a smile. He could get used to this Lex. He had hated to see him in so much pain all the time. Maybe it was better that he couldn’t remember? The mannerisms and his tone of voice… they were hit and miss though.  
  
“What can I do to help?” Clark asked earnestly.  
  
“Nothing, this breakfast’s on me, Clark.”  
  
He was saying his name an awful lot. That was strange. “No, really.”  
  
“Well, you could tell me where the flour and spices are.”  
  
Clark was sure he didn’t know, but he x-rayed the cabinets, and walked over to pull the items out for Lex. “Okay.”  
  
“Go watch cartoons,” Lex ordered.  
  
“What, you’re going to play mom?”  
  
“Mom… maybe. I wasn’t aware you were in the market for a mother, Clark.”  
  
Clark grinned. “Maybe you can be my wife then.”  
  
“How stereotypical. Go sit your ass on the couch.”  
  
“Will you bring me a beer, woman?”  
  
“Pfft. It’s eight in the morning. Absolutely not.”  
  
“Plus, I’m underage.”  
  
“Well, that hardly factors into my logic. You should try liquor instead, anyway. Or maybe an appletini. Goes down smooth.” Lex grabbed a dishtowel and snapped it at Clark’s backside. “Go. I’ll call you when breakfast is ready. It’ll be all…”  
  
Lex raised his hands expressively. “Rustic. Domestic. Homey. All that jazz.”  
  
“Whatever you want.” Clark returned to the couch and curled up, throwing an x-ray glance over at the kitchen now and again and trying to sniff for burning. He turned on the tube and started to watch _Justice Society!_ After about ten minutes into the program he heard faint, but cheerful singing in the kitchen.  
  
God, this was hard. Was this just yet another side to Lex? Or was this all that was _left_ of him after the Electric Couch?   
  
“Yes, I’ve been brokenhearted! Bluuuuue since the day we parted! Why, why did I ever let you go?”  
  
Lex was totally doing that to crack him up. _That_ he knew was something Lex would do… Clark settled for laughing loud enough so that Lex could hear him. He kept singing but calmed down a little bit. Clark settled in to watching the show and resisted the urge to go peek in on Lex. This was kind of fun. Lex was going to be okay.  
  
 _Justice Society!_ ended, and _Wombatman_ started up. He’d seen this one before. It had zombies or something. He crawled off the couch and headed outside. It was actually a nice day. Maybe after breakfast he and Lex could go for a walk, and Lex could give him one of those historical lectures he was so fond off.   
  
_Three cheers for hoity toity boarding schools,_ he thought to himself. He hardly ever had to study with Lex around.  
  
Leaning on the railing, a few minutes later he saw his father’s truck pull up.  
  
 _Uh oh. Is this ‘uh oh?’ Is kitchen usurpation as bad as a party? Ah, man._ Clark remembered he was in his pjs as he walked out to meet his parents.  
  
“You guys are early.” He said, giving his mom a hug.   
  
“Well, we got done early, and your father didn’t want to waste money on an extra day if he could help it, so we just checked out this morning and headed back.”  
  
Jonathan led the way inside. “You cooking, Clark?”  
  
“Uh, no. Lex came by and offered to cook me breakfast.” Clark grinned at the expressions on his parents’ faces. “I know that was my reaction too, but last I saw, he was doing pretty well. He shooed me out of the kitchen!”  
  
“Well, I don’t much like to be distracted when I have several things going either,” Martha joked. She went into the kitchen to say hello. Jonathan had a perplexed look on his face. “Mind a few more for breakfast?”  
  
Lex turned from the stove where he had been standing over a pan. He looked a little lost, as though he wasn’t sure where he was. Clark felt his heart fall. What had happened? He looked around and didn’t see anything burning or broken…  
  
“Smells real good.” Jonathan commented, supportively. Lex’s hand snuck behind his head, fingertips worrying his scalp and betraying his anxiety. He turned back to the pan. His expression hadn’t gone unnoticed, and Martha put her hands to her mouth, waiting with Jonathan. Clark skirted around his parents to see what was wrong. There were hash browns and bacon cooking in one pan, and biscuits in the oven. The counter was a bit of a mess, but the pancake batter was almost ready to go, and wow, were those apples in that batter? Lex sure knew how to do breakfast.  
  
“What’s wrong?” Clark almost whispered. He came up behind him slowly, Lex looked over in embarrassment and confusion. Clark saw the pan. The fry pan. With an unbroken egg just sitting in it.  
  
“I can’t…” Lex picked up the pan and then the egg. “Remember. How it goes. I know that…”  
  
Lex looked around, flustered. “There’s something wrong here, and I can’t fucking figure it out!”   
  
_Screw that Lionel Luthor,_ Clark thought. _He hurt the most beautiful part of his son!_  
  
Lex slammed the pan on the counter and tried to leave the kitchen, but Clark grabbed his wrist. He pulled him close to his chest. Lex was shaking. “Lex, it’s okay.”  
  
“No, it’s not okay. I have multiple degrees in biochemistry and business management, and I can’t fucking make _eggs_.”  
  
Clark winced at the language. Lex never swore. Well, he did a little, sometimes, but never in front of Clark’s parents. He struggled in Clark’s grasp. Every line on his face betrayed a desire to escape their eyes.  
  
“Oh, Lex, honey. I know it’s hard, but it’ll get easier. I promise,” Martha assured him. She took the pan and cracked the egg on the side. Lex wilted, watching her do it so easily. He began to blink rapidly, and Clark thought he might cry. “Just look, you’ve gotten such a good start here. Why don’t we finish together? Jonathan and I haven’t eaten yet.”  
  
“I’m sorry,” Lex said softly.

Jonathan put a hand on his shoulder. “Nothing to be sorry for.”  
  
Clark released him and looked at Lex worriedly. The amusement in his eyes was gone. How had he been so easily fooled? Lex was really upset over not remembering little details. Clark should have seen that. Lex just wanted to be near him and was putting on a cheerful face to try to smooth everything over himself.  
  
“I should go,” Lex declared.  
  
“No. No, don’t go, Lex, please?” Clark wondered if Lex remembered that puppy look Clark did. It always made Lex give in.   
  
“Oh, wow. This pancake batter is amazing,” Martha commented. She’d snuck the eggs in there for him. Lex murmured agreement and walked back over to the stove. Martha handed him the bowl with the pancake batter, and he began to stir as she manned the eggs. His eyes remained wide and distressed. Clark didn’t know what to do, but his father steered him out of the room.  
  
“Don’t make it worse for him, Clark.”  
  
Clark went upstairs and jumped in the shower. How could he not make it worse? How could he even make it better? He’d stood there and watched while Lex had his brain fried for trying to put a murderer in jail!  
  
He went back down the stairs, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. His mother and father were setting the table together, and Lex was sprinkling some powdered sugar on the pancakes.  
  
“Wow,” Clark murmured.  
  
“Come on.” Jonathan smiled and sat by Martha.   
  
Clark came over and sat beside Lex. ”Is this as rustic, domestic, homey as you imagined?”  
  
“It’s hard to be homey with two people, you know,” Lex said with a grin, forking a couple of pancakes and putting them on Clark’s plate.  
  
Clark smiled halfheartedly. Whatever mask Lex had been wearing earlier was back up in full force. He chatted amiably with Clark’s parents, and it seemed that “don’t make it worse” meant "ignore it completely and hope it goes away."  
  
The Kent family secret ingredient to harmony.   
  
After breakfast, Clark offered to take over the dishes, but coerced Lex into staying a little while with him. They talked while he did the dishes and then began a stroll out to the barn. Clark did indeed manage to tease a history lecture out of Lex, which put them both in a much better mood. They were walking past the field when Clark decided to ruin it.  
  
“About earlier…”  
  
Clark could see Lex’s entire body stiffen.  
  
“My dad is telling me not to make this worse for you, and I have no idea what that means.”  
  
Lex started to move away, and Clark clutched his hand.  
  
“I can’t even pretend to know what you’re going through. But I want you to know that I’m here for you. It scares me that you don’t seem like I remember you, but...”  
  
“I know I’m not the same. It’s like that damn egg in the pan. It isn’t fitting together right, and I know it. But I don’t know how to fix it.” Lex’s eyes were on the horizon. Clark realized that they were pretty much walking along hand in hand, but Lex hadn’t seemed to notice, or if he did, he didn’t care. “Yesterday I spent three hours trying to remember my mother’s face.”  
  
“Oh, _God_ …”  
  
”I keep looking at her picture and the face just won’t stay. And… your _name_. I keep forgetting it.” Lex sighed. “Electroshock can be effective in a last resort case, but for a lot of patients, the end result is really just a severe head trauma. It's why patient rights groups get laws passed against it. I’m afraid that I left vital parts of me behind at Belle Reve.”  
  
Clark didn’t know what to say. He just squeezed Lex’s hand tighter and walked closer to him.  
  
“I’m thinking of moving back to Metropolis to work for my father.”  
  
“What? Why??” Clark asked in alarm. Lex looked at him with a blank expression.  
  
“Because people in Metropolis don’t give a damn. Everyone here keeps  _looking_ at me like I’m fragile. Like I’m going to crack again. Your parents do, too. Was I…” Lex looked away again, clearly struggling. “Was I really that bad? Was I that crazy and dangerous?”  
  
“I wouldn’t say you were dangerous.”  
  
“Lana might disagree with you.”  
  
“The _horse_ was dangerous. I’m the idiot who thought putting you guys in a stable was a good idea.” Clark shook his head. “My parents saw you angry and paranoid. Chloe saw you cry. I don’t think anyone else saw much of it. They’re just going off of rumor.”  
  
He paused and moved his hand onto Lex’s opposite shoulder. “Are you really going to leave? Are you really going to work for _him_?”  
  
“You make my father sound like Satan.”  
  
“I’m not convinced he isn’t.”  
  
Lex’s lips twitched in amusement. “He got me out of the asylum, Clark, when I got better.”  
  
“He put you in there.”  
  
Lex looked up at him in confusion.  
  
“He did! It was _his_ doing. _His_ fault. You were bad, but I don’t know that you were ‘erase it and start over’ bad. I think if they’d tried to give you some therapy from someone you didn’t know was working for your father, or maybe pills that didn’t make you feel crazier and more scared… I don’t know. Maybe it's 'cause I’m your friend that I hate this. I hate myself for letting it happen to you. I hate what he did to you and _I HATE him_ -”  
  
When Lex stopped and brushed his hand against Clark’s face, Clark realized that he was crying.  
  
“I haven’t decided anything yet,” Lex assured him softly.  
  
“Please stay,” Clark begged.  
  
Lex embraced him, and the two of them stood intertwined for a long time.  
  
“Don’t, y’know. Feel like you have to be so damn happy around me. It feels even weirder. Just be you.”  
  
“I don’t know _how_ anymore.”  
  
“Than just _be_ and we’ll work the rest out. Don’t leave.” Somehow he could sense Lex smiling into his shoulder.  
  
“Okay, farmboy. I’ll stick around.”


End file.
